


The Nun

by 18WhyamIdoingthis20



Category: Original Work
Genre: Asexuality, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/18WhyamIdoingthis20/pseuds/18WhyamIdoingthis20
Summary: Celeste's father wants her to marry well, but Celeste has other ideas.
Relationships: OC/OC
Kudos: 1





	The Nun

**Author's Note:**

> Ann Radcliffe likes to have her characters sheltering in a convent, but the main character never becomes a nun because she wants to get married. I thought I'd write a story where the main character doesn't care about that.

Celeste sat alone in her room, painting. She could hear the gaieties occurring below in the castle, but for these she had no interest. In large gatherings of people, she felt intimidated, and in this her father was presiding. Her father in particular intimidated her, but she could never work out why; all she could remember ever since her mother’s death was her father subtly imposing on her, as she sought refuge in the company of her governess, Madame DuPont. In Madame DuPont she found an almost perfect role of both mother, sister and best friend. Madame guided her throughout her youth, teacher her lessons in literature, music, painting and religion. But now, as evening had fallen, Madame DuPont had retired to her room for early rest, leaving Celeste alone to paint, anxiously awaiting a summons from her father; although Celeste had little interest in these parties herself, her father was keen to introduce her at them in the hopes of attracting a rich suitor for her.

There was a knock at her door. Celeste called out, and a servant entered. “Miss, your father requires your presence in the second ballroom.”  
“Thank you, Antoinette,” Celeste replied, putting down her brush with a sigh of sadness and heading for the ballroom where she knew her father would accost her. Her dress was splattered with paint drops, but she cared not for the neatness of her appearance on this occasion. Although her father was keen to marry her off, Celeste enjoyed the seclusion of her current lifestyle and feared what a marriage might bring. She entered the ballroom and curtsied to her father politely. He sighed when he saw the state of her outfit, but instead of chiding her, he chose to introduce her to a M. Franc, a gentleman – apparently, he had been successful in finding her a suitor. However, Celeste was not charmed by M. Franc’s manners – he was fierce and uncouth. When she observed that her father was no longer watching, she slipped away from M. Franc and ran back to her room to continue her painting.

“Celeste,” Antoinette said. “Your father requires a word with you in his chambers.”  
Celeste sighed and got up from her reading to visit her father in his chambers. He was pacing back and forth, wringing his hands, when he saw Celeste enter. “Celeste, my daughter” he declared upon observing her entrance, ceasing his pacing. “M. Franc had made a proposal of marriage to you. I expect that you will be accepting such a gracious offer to you. His estate is worth twice mine – I am sure that his generosity will be greatly beneficial to you.”  
“I am afraid, father,” Celeste replied, trembling in every fibre of her being. “That I am unable to accept his proposals. His manner was far from charming and I fear what marriage with him will entail.”  
Her father stared at her in astonishment. “What can you mean by this refusal?!” he expostulated. “There is more to consider in accepting a proposal than his manner upon your first meeting. Do you not understand the eligibility of this particular match? Do you not understand that an offer of this magnitude is unlikely to be repeated? Do you not comprehend what this marriage will bring to our family in terms of fortune? And yet you choose to refuse this man – on the grounds that you like not his manner. Do you not understand that there is more to filial happiness than manner upon first meeting, and that the extent of his wealth will greatly compensate any tribulations you may face? Or perhaps your heart is pledged elsewhere – am I to find myself congratulating you on securing the hand of another man?”  
“My heart is not pledged to anyone,” Celeste replied, trembling. “But I still cannot accept the offers of M. Franc.”  
Her father was incensed with rage at this declaration. “You dare come to me with this? How can you continue in the refusals of the offers of a gentleman as eligible as M. Franc? You disappoint me to my very core. If you continue in this insubordination, I shall no longer refer to you as my daughter. I would rather be childless than have a wayward chit like yourself as my offspring.”  
“Father no!” Celeste threw herself at her father’s feet, weeping. She implored him in the most emotive terms she could, but to no avail. He simply cast her aside, leaving her alone in his room, still weeping. Overcome with emotion, she fell to the floor in a swoon, and had to be carried away by one of the servants.

When she awoke, Antoinette was stood over her with a look of fear in her eyes. “Your father insists that you marry Mons. Franc, or he will disown you. He says you have until the end of the week to make your decision.”  
Celeste’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ve lived in this castle for my entire life. I know not of anywhere else where I can live. What can he mean by this ultimatum? How can he force me into a betrothal with M. Franc? Does he have faith so scarce that he believes that the agreeable gentlemen will request my hand? M. Franc showed no sign that he would respect me at all in a marriage with him. Marriage to him would be worse than death.”  
“My lady,” Antoinette held her hand. “I heard of a convent nearby where we can seek refuge together. If we leave now, we should arrive before nightfall.”  
“I see no reason for me to stay here now, but are you sure you will be alright leaving here yourself?” Celeste was tentative.  
“If you left here, I would have no reason to stay.” Antoinette replied, embracing Celeste. “You are my whole world, and I couldn’t bear to live here without you.”  
“Well, let us wait no more to commence our flight. We must leave immediately, come, Antoinette – lead me to this convent.”  
Antoinette and Celeste gathered a small parcel of some of her clothes and some money, then fled from the castle. They found the stables and commandeered two horses, then Antoinette led them both to the convent, which was just outside the boundaries of the town.

The abbess of the convent greeted them cordially, assuring Celeste that they would shelter her if her father came looking for her. Celeste was filled with gratitude for the generosity of the abbess and expressed it with the kindest words she could muster, but as she spoke, she realised that she felt faint from her lack of food.  
“Madame,” Antoinette asked with concern. “I think that you need something to eat”  
Kindly, the abbess led Celeste and Antoinette to the kitchens and gave them some of the food which they had been saving to give to the poor. Celeste ate very little, but Antoinette pressed her to eat more until she had eaten a more satisfying amount. The abbess then led her to a room where she could find repose for the night. Celeste lay her head on the pillow and fell asleep almost instantly.

When she awoke in the morning, Celeste heard a commotion outside. She feared that it was her father looking for her, but when she looked out the window, she saw that it was M. Franc. Apparently, he hadn’t taken kindly to the news that she had rejected him and was now seeking to kidnap her and force her to become his bride. This made Celeste very glad that she had chosen to reject him. Clearly, she thought, this demonstrated that he held her in no respect, and would never regard her wishes. Later that day, she even heard from one of the nuns that he had had two wives in the past who had both died under suspicious circumstances. Celeste was filled with dread at these words. M. Franc was waiting outside the convent to take her away – what if the abbess was unwilling or unable to protect her from him?  
“Celeste, what is wrong?” A voice disturbed Celeste in her meditations. She had eaten little all day, and half expected it to be Antoinette fussing over her again. To her surprise, she instead saw the abbess, whom up until that point she was uncertain that she didn’t know her name.  
“I am afraid that M. Franc will take me away and force me to marry him.” Celeste answered honestly.  
“Did I not promise to protect you?” Replied the abbess.  
“But what if he captures the convent? I am not certain that I am secure even here.”  
“Do not worry, my child.” The abbess put a protective arm around her shoulders. “This convent is a secure building, with a secret passage through which we can take you away to a neighbouring church, should the forces of M. Franc infiltrate its walls. You have nothing to fear here.”  
Celeste thanked the abbess, but despite her assurances, she still feared the forces of M. Franc which she could see massing around the convent; she feared that they would enter before the abbess had time to take her away to safety. Her mind was in turmoil all that day, and she slept little that night.

The next morning, the abbess approached her as she sat eating her breakfast and made a proposition. “One way in which you can be certain that you are secure of the advances of M. Franc, is if you join our convent as one of our order. This way, he cannot possibly be able to marry you, as you would be already devoted to God, and only the Pope would be able to change that.”  
“Do you mean that I can stay here forever?” Celeste asked, with tears in her eyes, “I want that more than everything! When will this take place?”  
“I am pleased to see you so eager at the prospect,” replied the abbess with a smile. “If you are as certain as you appear, you will take your vows tomorrow.”  
“Tomorrow!” Celeste could hardly wait until then. Excitedly, she embraced the abbess in thanks, and ran to tell Antoinette the good news. Upon hearing that her mistress would be joining the convent, Antoinette immediately expressed a desire to join it also. Celeste was uncertain whether this would be acceptable, so took Antoinette to see the abbess. To the delight of Celeste, she agreed. Antoinette may not have been employed as her maid for long, but Celeste trusted her as the only person in her life within the castle – except Madame DuPont - who would not betray her, and now she could continue to live with her as her Sister.

The next day dawned, and Celeste and Antoinette made their vows. Celeste was filled with great joy that she could no longer be forced into marrying anyone against her will. She cared not that her life would be restricted within the walls of the convent – much of her childhood had been spent confined within her room, and it was only recently that she had left the castle for the first time. Here she would be safe from the tyranny of her father, and here she would finally be truly happy.  
Antoinette’s motives in joining the convent differed from Celeste’s; while she also celebrated the notion of living in quiet seclusion, her devotion to her mistress was such as Celeste would never be able to return, and she could not bear to leave her side. However, as time passed, she came to the realisation that her affections were unrequited, and, unlike M. Franc, chose not to force them on Celeste. Instead, she nursed her broken heart and tried to move on.

Much as Celeste had anticipated, M. Franc remained vigilant in his attempt to take her away from the castle. However, when he heard that Celeste had become a nun, he left with his army, and was not seen or heard of again for several weeks. Celeste came to speculate that he had chosen to force his affections on another unwitting young woman, but she was far from the truth: upon hearing that his advances had driven his daughter to take the veil, thus eliminating her chances of making a fortuitous match, Celeste’s father had challenged M. Franc to a duel, a duel in which he lost his life. Celeste need not have feared for herself, or for anyone else. She was finally safe.

Antoinette adjusted well to life within the convent. She worked hard and got on well with all the other nuns. One nun in particular, Victoire, caught her eye. She seemed different from the other nuns, and Antoinette wanted very much to become her friend. One night, after they had eaten, Antoinette approached Victoire and requested a moment alone with her to talk. To her great delight, Victoire agreed, and they met in Victoire’s cell. Sat alone on her bed, Antoinette asked Victoire what had brought her to the convent. Victoire looked thoughtful. “I always knew that I was different from my sisters.” She replied uncertainly. “While they were out, trying to catch the eye of whatever eligible gentlemen they might encounter, I preferred to sit alone at home and study scripture. I never really cared much for men, and I thought a life within a convent would secure me from them.”  
“Although I ultimately joined here to remain with my mistress,” Antoinette replied. “I feel some of what you are saying applies to myself also. The thought of a life spent entirely with women daunts me not.” She made eye contact with Victoire – and was that a blush she saw spread in her cheek. The abbey bell tolled, and Antoinette quickly got up, arranging with Victoire to repeat her visit the following evening.

The visit was repeated again that evening, and soon they were meeting every single evening for discussion. Antoinette felt herself begin to fall in love with Victoire, but she dreaded that her feelings would remain unreciprocated, as had happened with Celeste. She enjoyed her nightly visits to Victoire but feared that Victoire’s feelings were purely platonic. This fear led her to keep her feelings clandestine, but it also troubled her that her regular visits would be noticed, and that word would eventually reach the abbess.

On one such visit, she and Victoire were sat on her bed, discussing matters of little value, when suddenly Victoire fell silent. She seemed distracted.  
“Victoire, what is wrong?” asked Antoinette, taking her by the hand.  
“Nothing is wrong, Antoinette,” replied Victoire. “Do not trouble yourself about me. I am sure that it is of little importance with you how I feel.”  
“How can you say such things?” replied Antoinette, taking Victoire’s other hand and turning to face her more squarely. “Do you think that I hold you in so little esteem, when I make such regular visits to you in your cell – and have been doing so for nigh over a month? How can you expect me to feel nothing for you – if it were so, surely I would not be spending these hours in your company.”  
Victoire was silent. She seemed to be thinking over something. Her hands gently squeezed Antoinette’s, who returned the pressure. She turned to face her, and looked long into her eyes. Antoinette had bright blue eyes, framed with pale lashes, and Victoire was transfixed by them. Antoinette held the gaze, staring into Victoire’s dark eyes, which were now almost entirely black, like pools of dark ink. Her heart was pounding. Victoire leaned forward, and she did likewise, almost without a thought. They were so close she could count Victoire’s eyelashes, which were long and dark. The moment was so exhilarating; she closed her eyes as Victoire shut hers. She could feel her breaths gently on her face, then she felt the gentle pressure of Victoire’s lips against hers, lips which were gentle and soft. Their hands unclasped, and their arms moved to embrace each other instead. The kiss seemed to last forever. It was the most magical moment of Antoinette’s life.


End file.
